


Childish

by LittleTwoLegs



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: BUS kids shenanigans, F/M, Phil and Melinda love their kids, Philinda - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, do not try this at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTwoLegs/pseuds/LittleTwoLegs
Summary: Tumblr user justwannakeepcallinyourname prompted:  I love that Coulson and May both see Daisy as a daughter figure so I was thinking a fic where their love for Daisy brings them together. Daisy "parent traps" them; she sees them as surrogate parents and can see the spark between them and is determined to get them together by any means.Daisy and the 'kids' do something drastic to make 'mom and dad' realize they love the same things and also each other. Things... don't go according to plan.





	Childish

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this was supposed to be SHORT story but that obviously didn't happen. It was hard to find a balance between lighthearted fun with the BUS kids + Mackelena and the reality that they are super smart and spies that are highly trained. I tried but let me know if it seems off. My sense of humor, also, can be considered odd so, yeah, be prepared.
> 
> I own none of the characters!

Phil never had a problem with his life, giving everything he had for and to SHIELD. He hadn’t, that was, until he met Melinda May and he began to wonder what he was missing out on. But she got married and he moved on (…ish. Not really. He _dealt_ with it but was always going to be in love with her). He dated here and there, knowing it would never lead to anything, not with his job and not with them being civilians. He was too high up the food chain and too honest to be so cruel as to leave them in the dark.

He wasn’t stupid enough to date within the Organization.

But then he died and came back and Melinda was there again. It was like breathing fresh air after being stuck in a gas chamber (he knew from experience, yes). She teased him, she made his coffee in the mornings and thanked him for the tea he made at night. When she had nightmares she sat in the cockpit and he joined her on occasion, heart aching when she held his hand.  She knew he wanted to comfort her, to smother her with the love and affection that had always been his way, but knew he would never invade her desired bubble that way. She held his hand, briefly, as a sign she accepted and took comfort in the fact that he still supported her in every way.

Now, though, now he had a new love. That was Skye, turned Daisy. She was everything he could’ve asked for in a daughter; strong, wicked intelligent, brave, kind, beautiful, and everything else under the sun but she was also so young, so damaged and still lost. He did his best to help her where he could, especially in the beginning when May wanted nothing to do with her. It wasn’t May’s fault, really, she was more concerned with his health he now knew but he felt he might have over compensated in the beginning.

As far as Coulson knew, he had it made. He had his best friend who was also the love of his life with him, his heart’s daughter and his Lola. Sure, SHIELD seemed to be in constant trouble, his team in particular in constant danger, but they were all fighting the good fight and he had faith they would pull through. Call it intuition.

Melinda, on the other hand, after realizing she didn’t have to pretend to be who she wasn’t, was never satisfied with her life at SHIELD. She wanted a family when she got older; a charming husband who understood the perils of her job and didn’t try to make her quit, a child to cherish and spoil, hell maybe even a dog or cat to snuggle with on the couch. When Melinda met Phillip J. Coulson she was certain she had found the first part of her dream. He was nerdy, kind, crazy smart but not arrogant or conceited in the fact. He respected her as a valuable asset and as a woman which was rare in their line of work.

Then she met Andrew and while she still dreamed of wedding vows that included dismissing clearance levels at their own home she married him instead. The red tape and realities she and Phil would’ve had to face as being agents in SHIELD were too much and she feared their relationship would buckle and collapse because of them. With no real input from Phil that she could discern it was difficult to know if he thought it worth the risk. For all she knew he didn’t even realize she was half in love with him already. So instead she took stock of her life.

She loved Andrew; he made her smile, she felt she could be vulnerable with him and he even got along with her mother. He was perfect. But, even as she and Andrew excitedly planned to start trying for children, Melinda felt her heart painfully tug for a brief moment when she heard Phil was dating a local New Yorker girl with a love for classic cars. She was happy for him but sad too, feeling it was the last nail in the coffin to a potentially amazing what if.

She worked hard, trained hard, and became the best. She trained to be the solution to every problem but instead Bahrain happened. She was never the solution anymore. So she pulled herself out of the position in both her personal and profession life and made herself useful in other ways. When Andrew was completely out of the picture, Phil was there with a nice bottle of tequila and homemade rice pudding. She didn’t know why it cheered her up, maybe it was the alcohol, but she was pretty certain Phil being there played a role.

Then Phil died and she had to find a reason not to as well.

Fury came with a folder and a nauseating truth and the choice was no longer hers.

He was the same but different, better yet worse. He told jokes, his sarcasm was more present than ever and yet he didn’t smile the same, his eyes never crinkled and the sparkle was gone. He was overly emotional, impulsive and foreign to her, except for the fact that he still knew her boundaries and took comfort from her silence. It was unnerving how well he knew her but didn’t remember about himself.

Melinda wanted to shout at him, to make him remember, but refused to endanger him that way. She would play along with his new way of doing things but if he started deteriorating…

Well, she was a trained spy; she knew how to disappear unnoticed, even with high value assets.

That all changed when the he brought that girl aboard her plane. He was clearly losing control, picking up a random kid and giving her access to secrets that it was his job to keep. Skye, she called herself, was trouble, she just _knew_ it.

Trouble she may be, Melinda wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who came after her. She faced down an Asgardian warrior, one of Thor’s closest companions, and started training her to be able to defend herself. Skye, or rather Daisy, decided to become an agent and if she was going to choose that road then Melinda wanted her as prepared as she could be. Phil was already teaching her how to be a leader and while he knew how to fight, was actually rather good at it, he knew he could leave that part of her training to the more talented.

Even though they were now dealt what seemed like blow after blow it was okay with Melinda. She had Phil, her best friend, her second chance, and she had Daisy, the child she never thought she could have.

Neither agent wanted to mess with the current status quo, content to be at each other’s side and watch over their team.

-:X:-

Unfortunately for them, Daisy and the rest of the team, were not.

“Okay, look, its not that hard, guys, you’re just overthinking it,” Daisy sighed. They all were squeezed into her bunk on the base, an open laptop on her lap showing Hunter’s face. He was on his cellphone relating their meeting to his wife. Mack had left already, stating that he in no uncertain terms was not going to be plotting anything remotely related to Melinda May. He liked his head right where it was.

Fitzsimmons sat at the edge of Daisy’s bed, looking at each other with worried eyes, a whole conversation taking place too quickly for anyone to follow as they read one another’s faces. Simmons turned to Daisy. “Look, Fitz and I are all for the Director and May getting together, Lord knows how long they’ve been headed that way, but is it really something we should be meddling with?” Simmons said, squeezing her boyfriend’s hand.

Fitz held up a hand, quelling Daisy’s and Hunter’s argument before they could begin. “All we’re concerned about is the timing. Simmons and I got together when we needed to, after a bunch of trauma and separation to help us realize that we didn’t want to be without one another.” He looked over at Jemma, his heart soaring in his chest as she returned his loving gaze. Hunter exaggeratedly gagged but smiled at the two as they looked over at him.

“If we got together before then, the stress from our trials may have torn us apart.” Fitz continued. Jemma nodded, panic at the thought briefly flooding her veins. She took a breath and focused on Fitz’s words. “May and Coulson are meant to be together, I don’t think any of us can disagree about that, but pushing them together before they’re ready for it may not be the best thing to do…” Fitz finished.

He did want to see the two older agents happy and not just because he had found happiness with Jemma. He also felt a sort of familial bond with the two, more so Coulson than May, but he was certain that was because of his lack of a father figure growing up. Fitz just didn’t want to be the one to mess up the happiness they could find with each other.

“Look, Mate,” Hunter said, the audio not perfectly synched to the video. He refused to tell them where he was but he had told them he and Bobbie (whom was on the other end of the phone) were 100% for a plan to get Coulson and May together, just in case they got disconnected before the plan was set. “They’re both the oldest spies we know, some of the smartest too, and in May’s case, scariest, but they’re going to _know_ they’re being set up. If they don’t want to get together they’re not going to get together. That’s that.” He leaned back in the chair he was in, waiting for his words to reach his friends a world apart. He missed them, he wasn’t going to lie. He did not regret leaving with Bobbie, he loved her and didn’t want to leave her, but for the first time ever in his life he had felt like he belonged and, another first, he wanted to go back.

“Which is why we should move now, not later!” Elena spoke up, frustration clear in her voice. She really hated sometimes how everything was discussed before put into motion. It wasted time. Daisy grinned up at her, thankful to have someone present on her side. There was quiet for a few beats, Fitzsimmons again having a silent conversation.

“Okay, we’ll help, but if confronted by either of them we have full permission to tell.” Jemma said. As close as she had become to May she did not anticipate being questioned by the specialist. Coulson, she knew, could probably pull the information out of her through casual conversation; he was eerily good at that.

A chorus of “Yes!” sounded before they all huddled just a little bit closer, ready to hear their assigned duties.

-:X:-

Phil contentedly sighed as he stretched out on his bed. Yesterday had been rather sedate and had included a victory, minor though it was, against the red tape of the United States government. He appreciated where they were coming from, having once been an organization that both directly and indirectly helped to shape the future, but having to deal with it day in and day out and weigh every single action against the consequences to the newfound SHIELD was taking a toll. He tried to celebrate any little bit of ground he gained in the political realm.

For now, though, all he wanted was his morning coffee and to watch Melinda do her morning Tai Chi.

It had become a thing for them, when they lived on the BUS, and he supposed it calmed him to a point. When they skipped it he knew it threw him off his game. It was a nice place to start the day, looking at his partner at her most relaxed, seeing his best friend safe if just for a moment. It didn’t happen often so he tried to cherish the moments they were on base and out of harm’s way.

With little fuss Phil found an appropriate suit for the day and got dressed, the pull of the soft cotton dress shirt an old comfort. He’d been wearing jeans and t-shirts too long. After a quick polish check of his shoes he stepped out of his room, heading to the kitchen and then the training room. In silence he was able to prepare his coffee and make Melinda her tea. By the time she was done with her morning routine the tea would be perfectly cooled.

He brought his thermos and her porcelain teapot with its matching tea cup and plate on a tray to the training room. He quietly set it down on a padded chair just behind where Melinda stood doing her exercises. He watched her transition forms slowly, muscles bunching and pulling as she shifted position. It was mesmerizing, more than a little alluring, but he carefully kept his gaze from turning into a leer. She was just so delicately graceful it was hard not to watch. It was fun to imagine her using those muscles on their enemies, in fact he quite liked it when everyone thought he was the muscle only to get a thorough beat down by his best friend. It never failed to entertain him.

He kept himself in the present watching Melinda work. He had tried to do it once himself but had found that he couldn't focus when Melinda was showing him different positions, when he could smell her so close to him, when she was touching him. It didn't matter that the touch was innocent or nowhere near any erogenous zone, it was distracting.  He loved the way she was so delicate with him, always making sure that she wasn't squeezing too tight or pulling him beyond his limits. If she thought he was thirsty without waiting to ask she would get him water and encourage him to drink. It was hard not to love her. So he didn't fight it any more. He loved her, he just didn't tell her.

She pulled her body up back to a normal standing position, closing her routine with a deep inhale and long exhale. She turned around fully expecting to see Phil there waiting for her and was not disappointed. She smiled as she saw the tea cup already fully prepared. She grabbed her towel and wiped her forehead; it wasn't a lot but she usually did sweat, and she didn't want to potentially drip onto anything.

"Good morning," she said to Phil. He in turn raised his thermos to her, his eyes crinkling in the corners as she sighed in delight at the taste of her tea. "Perfect.” she said licking her lips. Phil gazed up at her, thrilled that he could do at least this one thing for her. She did so much for him it seemed it was the least he could do.

"What’s our plan today?" he asked with a hint of humor. Melinda glanced at him, taking another sip of her tea. They knew perfectly well that he was the one that had to decide that but he always tried to include her in the decision. She wasn't entirely sure why, other than the fact that she trained most of their core team, but beyond that she had no real power. Her biggest power was possibly that she had his ear and trust.

"I don't know, why don't you take a look at that little StarkPad of yours" she said snarkily. Phil laughed but grabbed the device. He pulled up a report, noting that it had happened sometime early this morning while he had been watching Melinda. Alarm flared as he saw that it related to a chemical spill within the lab. He quickly expanded it open and passed it off to Melinda. Her brow furrowed with worry and they both simultaneously got up.

"I'll shower and change in 5. Be ready to go down there." she said. Phil nodded and grabbed the pad that she offered to him. He would take their dishes to the kitchen, there was no need to leave them in the training room. By the time he was done washing dishes and had returned to the training room Melinda was exiting the women's locker room pulling her wet hair up into a ponytail. She hated it when her hair was wet against her neck but once dry she usually like to have it down. Phil loved it when it was down because it was easier to run his hands through it, something he hadn't done since they were partners in Tokyo.

Hurriedly, though not many would be able to tell, they made their way to the lab, intent on finding out more than what the small report had been able to tell them. Upon entering the room everything seemed fine, there was no sign of an explosion or acid erosion. In the back of the room, however, the red alarm lights were flashing and the chamber was sealed, vents shut, and the backup oxygen supplier and scrubber activated. Fitzsimmons saw him and began talking at the same time, clearly nervous. Phil held up a hand for silence and went up to the glass wall separating them. “Explain.” he ordered.

Fitzsimmons looked at each other both worried but Jemma began to talk. "It was just a simple experiment gone wrong, Sir." she said. Fitz stepped back and grabbed a broken test tube. He showed it to Phil and Melinda. "I accidentally dropped this when I was transferring it to the centrifuge, and the exposure of the compound to oxygen caused it to turn into a gas and that set off the alarm." Simmons said. “it's nontoxic but it is unusual and can have a few side effects. Mostly just on appetite and melatonin production. Probably for the next few hours at least Fitz and I will be stuck in here. If we could have some snacks delivered? Yo-Yo made cookies a few nights ago and Fitz and I were planning on having some for dessert today…"

Phil eyed the two scientists, knowing that they weren't telling the truth but knowing also there was not much he could do about it. They were in chemical lock down and there was no usurping that, not unless he wanted to use the override. Using the override, however, not only used resources that they needed to conserve, but it also set the whole base on alert for the fact that there may be a chemical spill. Not something he wanted to do.

“We’ll make sure you get fed, Fitzsimmons, don't you worry." Phil said. Melinda side eyed him but he ignored it. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?" he said giving them the chance to come clean. He could see that Fitz almost gave in, looking at Jemma for guidance. She narrowed her eyes minutely but Phil still caught it and apparently so did Fitz because they both looked at him with bright smiles and shook their heads in the negative. “Alright then. You hang tight until this is over. I'm glad everything's okay.”

Melinda and Phil made straight for his office, ready to start their day with the usual daily reports, though this time with Fitzsimmons’ incident report on top. Melinda sat in the chair opposite him, going through the inventory reports turned in by Mack the previous Saturday. She frowned at the severe depletion of some of their resources; medical supplies were low, some of their training supplies were depleted, food rations were lower than they should be, and even the cleaners for the base were running short. Their personal inventories too, were below 15%. She frowned, certain these were wrong. She stood, eyeing the clock that read 10:41 AM, before heading out of the office, waving the stack of papers over her shoulder when she felt Coulson’s curious gaze follow her.

She wound her way through the base, searching for Mack or Elena, who would know where Mack was. Piper passed her in the halls, the young agent reporting a citing of her prey a few minutes earlier, changing May’s destination to the Columbian’s room. She really wished the junior agents didn’t flaunt their romantic entanglements so much. Its not that she disapproved of them having a relationship but the fact remained that it was inappropriate and while not against any SHIELD regulation (Phil had basically abolished the whole rule-book upon taking charge, starting from scratch on that too) she feared it could be a distraction for the agents. Still, she knew they deserved whatever happiness they could scrape together, especially with this job.

Her fist was heavy as she knocked on the steel door, her face set into a frown. When Yo-Yo answered, perfectly attired and put together, Melinda could hear the shower going on in the back. While Phil had known it could be viewed as favoritism he still gave their main team, which he had listed as a strike team, investigation team and RR team, semi-private bathrooms. Four agents had to double up and one got their own.

“Mack is in the shower?” May questioned, face neutral. Elena nodded, not a hint of embarrassment on her face. Melinda could respect that. “I read his inventory reports. Tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible.” She ordered.

“Yes, he already said he had to make a run. We weren’t able to last period because Talbot was looking for our quinjets, remember?” Elena said. She used her ability to grab her phone, pulling up the report in less than a second. “Here,” She passed her phone over. Melinda read it quickly, frowning. She did not remember reading this report.

“Well,” She said, noting the time and date being accurate. “Looks like you and Mack have a mission today. Take a quinjet and pick up the missed delivery and restock on everyone’s personal items, the lists should’ve been submitted last period. Keep receipts and the money will be taken from their personal expense accounts. I expect you out by eleven thirty.” It was an order in the guise of a statement but Yo-Yo nodded, wincing at the 20-minute time limit Mack was given (because _she_ , of course was fine), and retrieved her phone. May returned her nod and left, focused on getting back to Coulson’s office.

A frown marred her features as she saw his desk chair empty. A quick, but thorough, search of his office and quarters gave no indication of his whereabouts. She didn’t want to seem overbearing but this morning their kids had already taken up a good portion of her and Coulson’s usual time together which was brief enough as it was. Mind made up, she dug out her phone and called him. If he was in the kitchen getting food she wanted some anyway.

“May, Daisy’s room, now.” The line disconnected and May felt her heart pound in her chest. As much as she loved Fitzsimmons and cared for Mack and Elena it was no secret that Daisy held a special part of her (and Coulson’s) heart. Worry ate at her all through her quick sprint to Daisy’s room and it only multiplied as she saw Coulson kneeling at Daisy’s bedside, the girl in question clearly ill on the bed.

Phil was holding Daisy’s hand, occasionally bringing it up to his lips, placing a brief kiss there as he whispered placating words to her. He turned panicked eyes to Melinda. “Melinda, I…” he had to clear his throat. “I got a cool rag on her but she’s burning up! We gotta get her to the lab. I’ll pull the override to get Fitzzsimmons out, Daisy needs our best!” He was slightly frantic, May noted. It was unusual, for him at least. She had seen him with a bullet in his thigh, a broken wrist and she suspected he had broken or bruised his ribs with the way he was breathing, and he had been cool as a cucumber. He didn’t skip a beat when Natasha had been hit in the chest and Barton’s nest was found out.

But Daisy was sick and he was panicking. And truth be told so was she.

She nodded to him, quickly grabbing spare clothes and opening to door wide for him as he picked up the young girl. She was healthier now, well fed and with muscles earned from training with Melinda, but Phil didn’t seem to notice the weight as he cradled her to his chest, walking sideways out the room. She cleared the way to the lab, scanning her badge to let them through until he was able to place her on a gurney.

He wiped sweaty hair from Daisy’s face, concern deeply etched on his face. Melinda placed her hand on his and they locked eyes. He could read the concern his partner’s eyes, and he trusted her to take care of Daisy while he couldn’t so he reluctantly pulled away, heading further into the lab to get to the containment room. His entrance caused Fitzsimmons to stand at attention, Jemma with a smile on her face.

“Oh, did you bring any biscuits?” she asked eagerly. Fitz nodded his head, interest in potential sugar intake.

Coulson ignored them, scanning his hand on the panel of the sealed room. It lit green before blinking red. Text flashed across the screen. He cursed. “Fitz, what is Protocol MotherShip?” He demanded. He heard the Scot mutter to himself but when he wasn’t given a useful answer his nerves frayed. “Fitz! How do I get around MotherShip Protocol?” he growled. He didn’t recognize it and it wasn’t a new one that was put into place after Gonzalez.

“I’ve never encountered it before, Sir!” Fitz answered. He looked distressed as Coulson swore. He moved to stand in front of the large glass pane. He was red in the face and his fist were clenched as he tried to keep his temper reigned in.

“Agent Simmons,” He said. Both scientists winced. “Your teammate and friend has fallen ill. She has a very high fever, sweats, a bad cough and chills. We need to find a cure and find it fast. She was fine last night; what are the possibilities?” he ticked off the symptoms on one hand, watching Jemma mentally take everything into account. “I can’t get you out to work on her but you can walk me through figuring it out and then making a cure.”

Jemma looked at her boss, the worry in his face, the stress Daisy’s illness had caused. She looked to Fitz and saw her own guilt reflected in his eyes. May’s voice called out to Phil, tight and stressed. She broke.

“Oh, sir! It’s just the flu! The virus will die in a few hours! By this time tomorrow she’ll already be in recovery!” She had tears in her eyes as she babbled the whole plan that the young agent had come up with. Elena and Mack were to be off base so they weren’t there to help, her and Fitz would intentionally get locked in the containment room so they wouldn’t be available either and Daisy had planted the MotherShip Protocol to lock Coulson and May out. Daisy had Jemma tamper with a strain of the flu to make it virtually harmless and injected herself with it that evening so that the next day Phil and May would have to take round the clock care of her and in doing so spend the whole day together and realize they cared about the same things.

Phil stood there, watching tears fall down Jemma’s face, trying to absorb all that he had been told. He had so many questions, many scathing remarks, and a whole lot of confusion but his main priority was taking care of Daisy as she lay suffering in the medical wing. “It’s just the flu.” He asked for confirmation. Jemma nodded. “I’ll be back to deal with you two later.” He said before heading back to the medical wing.

Melinda was at Daisy’s bedside, talking to her in Mandarin while patting her face dry with a towelette. She had removed Daisy’s clothes in favor of one of the hospital gowns and braided her hair to the side to keep it off her neck and out of her face. Phil felt his heart clench, thinking of Jemma’s words.

Did they not show that they loved the kids as much as they did? They were still the bosses so they had to keep some bit of professionalism but he thought they all knew how dear each and every one of them was to them. He shook his head as another thought struck. If they hadn’t done this then he and Melinda _would_ be spending all day together… _alone_. Now he knew neither he nor Melinda were going to leave Daisy’s bedside.

Well, needs must.

“It's just the flu, Melinda. A mutated, engineered for short duration, potent strain of the flu.” He explained. He must have shown his relief and frustration on his face because her confusion was brief before a look of exasperation fell over her.

“Simmons?” She asked.

“All of them.” He clarified.

“They’re childish.” Melinda retorted with a snort. Still, she again patted Daisy’s face dry.

“Yeah…” Phil said, searching the cabinets for the antibiotics they kept on hand. He found the vials and syringes, placing both on a tray next to the bed. He carefully calculated the amount Daisy would need and withdrew that amount. In fluid teamwork Melinda used an alcohol pad to wipe Daisy’s arm clean, Phil pushed the needle in and administered the drug and upon his removal May slapped a band-aid in place.

After properly disposing of everything they each sat on a side of Daisy’s bed, watching the young girl cough, moan and toss around to get comfortable. Their hearts hurt to watch her be ill but a smile pulled at Melinda’s face. “You gonna keep Fitzsimmons in containment the whole time?” she asked. She could admit she wasn’t above petty revenge like that.

“Maybe until Fitz _really_ has to go to the bathroom.” Phil responded with a smirk. He placed his hand over Daisy’s as it lay on her stomach. He was staring at her face and he jumped when his prosthetic processed Melinda placing her hand over it. He looked at her and she smiled, a tired but genuine smile.

They sat in silence, watching over their youngest, worried but content.

-:X:-

 “You gave Daisy the flu, the actual fully active flu… to get May and I to spend more time together?” Phil questioned his agents a few days later in his office, in clear disbelief. Beside him he could feel Melinda stiffen, holding in laughter. He took in the guilty faces, one still slightly grey, looking up at them. This was unbelievable.

“You…” He had to take a breath to settle his thoughts. “You do realize you could’ve just asked? Could’ve, I don't know, asked us to go out on a mission together? Said you needed a night for just the younger agents, that we were cramping your style or something?” he said, cringing at his lack of eloquence. “No, you had to go and give Daisy a potentially deadly virus?" While Coulson wasn't really angry, he was more than a little confused.

These were _intelligent_ agents. They had to be, considering they were all in the top echelon of their respective fields. They were more than capable of complex thinking. They were fully capable of forming a plan that kept everyone safe!

But no, instead, they decided to give their friend a deadly virus.

“Actually, sir,” Jemma said nervously speaking up but confident in her knowledge. “The virus was genetically engineered with safety features that would essentially deactivate the virus after a 16-hour period, in addition to it not be contagious.” She was clearly thrilled at the science behind it, his amazingly talented biologist. She noticed his unimpressed stare and back peddled. “And she consented to it. It was actually sort of her idea!” Daisy looked in horror at her friend. It was like when they first met all over again! She had gotten so good at lying and here she was spilling secrets like a rookie.

“She wanted to fake illness and I knew that you and May were way too good of spies to fall for something like that. I thought we needed a little flair of authenticity. Which I could guarantee.” Jemma finished. She shrank beneath the glares of her fellow agents and the stern look from the Director. May seemed impartial but Jemma could feel the judgement.  

Coulson stared. “Authenticity. You gave her an _active flu virus_ for _authenticity_.” He clinched his eyes shut, rubbing his hands over them. “Out. All of you out. Now." Dejectedly, all of the junior agents fled the room muttering about plans not working out. Fitz nudged Daisy who scoffed and turn to Jemma. The movement was too fast it seemed for she turned green at the gills.

The door closed and Coulson let out a breath, huffing as he felt Melinda move to stand in front of him. He quickly snapped his eyes to her as he caught her low laughter. Her eyes were alight with mirth, a genuine smile at her lips, small though it was. He could stare at that all day. She began talking and he had to refocus. “So, Director, what are we going to do about our youngest’s plot?” she asked.

Coulson snorted, reaching out for her hand. She intertwined their fingers and stepped closer to him, placing her other hand over his heart. The rhythm beneath her palm matched her own which made her feel better. “What do you suggest?” He asked, only half kidding. He wasn’t stupid but he wanted to be sure what May’s intentions were before he jumped over that ledge. He cursed himself for being a coward. He just didn’t want to hurt her, even if unintentionally. Neither of them deserved that; her the hurt of not being able to break free of her history, him of hurting her and then, after he made sure Melinda was as okay as she could be, the grief of having his heart crushed. Again. Their hearts only had so many lives and he was loath to be the reason they both lost another piece.

The spark of mischief in her eyes, so familiar from long ago, did not bode well for their junior agents but Phil hoped he was in the clear. Melinda twisted their hands until she could pull hers free and press his hand to her chest. She could tell when he understood her meaning, the little dorky grin and the sudden rise of pink to his cheeks, and smiled up at him. “She wasn’t exactly wrong, Phil.” Her quiet yet hopeful, words were almost lost to the rushing in his ears but Phil would always hear her.

He swallowed, uncharacteristically out of witty comments. “No, she most definitely was not.” Phil hesitantly dropped his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. He cursed his mechanical hand, hating that he couldn’t _feel_ her warmth, the little bumps and dips of the silvery lines on her body, marks leftover from dangers defeated. He tried to focus on his other hand, the hand that could feel her heat through the thin cotton of her shirt. He knew she didn’t mind either, even if she had to give him a moment to catch up and respond to a touch on the fabricated limb, but he still felt that he was cheating her in some way.

Melinda didn’t seem to mind it at all, pressing her body to his, hands tightening on the lapels of his suite jacket. She smirked, eyes darting to his lips. For just a second he hesitated, wondering about the line they had drawn when they were just starting their careers, before he leaned down, softly pressing his lips to hers.

He could hear his heart hammering in his ears, smell the clean scent of her skin and taste the honey lip balm she used. Most importantly, though, was the feel of Melinda, her body cradled by his, eagerly returning his kiss. She turned her head just so, slanting their lips across each other and giving her a better grip to run her hands up and squeeze the back of his neck. They parted, just for a breath, but Melinda didn’t give him much time to recover.

She was on fire, from within, on her skin, her thoughts boiling down to Phil was _fucking finally_ kissing her. It truly had been a long time coming, she knew, but it was worth the wait. His cologne, nice and lightly applied, sedate even, embraced her in a warm blanket of familiarity that made her feel safe. The security gave her the courage to actually touch him, to go beyond the pristine suite of his; she traced her hands over his neck, smiling into the kiss as she felt his pulse racing along his carotid. He pulled her closer, hands on her hips and a giggle escaped her. Melinda had never played coy and she did not plan to start now; she pressed more firmly against him, letting the whole of her body lay along his. She wanted him to be rougher, as he just so briefly had been. She wasn’t made from glass and she wasn’t a dream bout to fade away.

She nipped him, quick and sharp, her tongue darting out to sooth the wound. She moaned when she got the response she was waiting for.

Their kiss turned heated quickly. Phil lost his tie and his top two buttons were rolling around somewhere. Her shirt was bunched up and his hands were all over her, synthetic coolness pleasantly contrasting with the delicious heat from the hand that cupped her breast.

The was a loud bang from outside Coulson’s office, startling them to attention. Melinda stayed in Phil’s arms and he, thankfully, didn’t remove his hands. They caught their breath, Phil staring over her shoulder at the door. They could barely hear the voices of the junior agents but the noise quickly faded.

Phil looked down at the woman in his arms, his heart racing and an unbidden smile made itself home on his face. “I’m not thanking them.” He said.

Melinda buried her face into his shoulder and laughed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing this, even if it did take forever. Please let me know what you thought in a comment or kudo if you liked it. ConCrit is highly encouraged and very much appreciated!
> 
> P.S. I know "snarkily" is not an official word but dammit all it works for me so I used it.


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